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by themeltingsnowflakes



Series: Troye Sivan Songfics [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Asexual Character, Based On a Troye Sivan Song, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Songfic, ace!Jug, archie cheats on jughead, feels like a complete wreck afterwards, gasoline, just a generally sad fic, so dont expect much out of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 02:05:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14864588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themeltingsnowflakes/pseuds/themeltingsnowflakes
Summary: Archie promises that he doesn't need sex to be in a relationship. This is the aftermath of him breaking said promise.Based on Gasoline by Troye Sivan





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**Author's Note:**

> This is my first [published] fic! No, I'm not proud of it, but I wanted to share what painful things I imagined while listening to Troye Sivan's Gasoline. Definitely recommend giving that a listen (in case you haven't already).  
> I may make a series of songfics. No promises though.  
> This isn't my usual writing style but I wanted to try something new.

 

_[GASOLINE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jErLlcPx3mI) _

 

_I smell heartbreak on my hands, I feel sick to my stomach as I begin to stand_

 

Archie rolled over in his bed, shakily getting to his feet. It was cold, the layer of sweat covering him not aiding in the slightest. A few days ago, he didn’t mind that feeling because he was hot. Too hot. Everything about that night was too hot. At first it was hot with adrenaline, of old feelings made new. Now though, the adrenaline was replaced with regret and his guilt was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. It burned inside of him, reminding him every time he took a breath that he was hot, nearly on fire.

 

_I see your outline in my bed in the same spot I watched him rest his head_

Dirty. Archie felt dirty. He made Jug dirty by being near him, by letting him back into his house and into his bed. Everything he touched was dirty and soured in some way. He couldn’t- wouldn’t- do that to Jug.

 

_I've done you wrong, I regret it. I write this song, try to forget it_

 

He hugged his body in a poor attempt to warm himself and protect him from the dark of the room. Each time he closed his eyes he saw what he did, he saw the body that wasn’t Jug’s, a jacket on the floor that his best friend would never wear. Trapped in his mind, sensations were sent right down to the tips of his fingers of hair that was coarse, nothing like his boyfriend’s whose was almost always hidden beneath his hat. Archie picked up his notebook and opened it to a half-written song he couldn’t complete. Not after what he did. He didn’t deserve the love that he had and he definitely didn’t deserve to write about it.

 

_I feel this emptiness in my chest, it feels surreal but I'm feeling stressed_

 

Empty. He felt empty. A wet sort of empty like the can of soda on his desk. Hollow. If he hadn’t of… it was an empty-headed mistake. That’s what it was. A disgusting, witless idea. He should’ve expected this. Did he think things would go back to normal? That he could ignore what he did?

 

_I need to do something, I fucked up for nothing_

 

He sat down on his chair and watched the boy sleep, telling himself that he can’t cry, not over his own stupid mistake. Archie squeezed at the bridge of his nose in frustration and forced himself to watch what happened on a boundless reel behind his eyes. He fucked up, and for what? For pleasure? The temporary relief wasn’t worth throwing away a future of happiness.

 

_Now I gotta just tell someone, tell someone what I've done_

 

Tearing his eyes opening, he avoided his bedspread. He couldn’t bring himself to look towards the sound of Jughead’s snores. Across from his window, he saw no lights on. Of course Betty wouldn’t be awake, it was nearly 4 am after all. It's known that only the distressed are up at this time and Archie, in his state, was the very definition of broken.

 

_Please bathe me now, wash me clean. Just set my heart on fire, like gasoline_

 

Dirty. He still felt dirty, and oh, how close he was to waking Jughead to get him out of that bed, out of his dirty sheets and to stay away from Archibald Andrews before he gets too hot and sets everything on fire. _Funny_ , he thinks to himself, _fire inside and out_.

 

_Bathe me now, wash me clean. Just set my heart on fire, like gasoline. Oh, no, like gasoline_

 

A shower. He needed a shower desperately but the time stopped him. Time was against him, avenging Jughead by making Archie feel sorry for himself. The world had always loved Jughead more. The way the snowflakes fell on his hair in the winter, how the sun hit his face in all the right places in the summer. Even spring suited him, green grass and changing leaves unfairly adjusting to his aura. Riverdale may not suit him, but the world? The world was designed for him. That boy deserved the world and Archie couldn’t even keep it in his pants long enough to tell him that.

 

It was too early and Archie was growing angrier as time went by. At first, he was angry at himself for cheating, for feeling hot when he should’ve felt sick, but then, as his face was warming up to a point where you could light a match off his cheek, he felt anger towards everything. He was angry at Jughead for making him act out, angry at Betty for sleeping when he needed her, angry at time for always being against him. The blame, however, was on his conscience alone and he knew that. He’d known it from the very beginning. Throwing on some clothes without caring how disheveled he seemed, he grabbed his guitar and notebook, leaving Jughead sleeping alone in his room.

 

_Wake up the morning after, you call but I don't answer_

 

It wasn’t the first time Archie had left Jughead sleep in his room without him. This time was different, though. There was no note, no message. Jughead knew something was different; something had changed. After stumbling into the Andrews’ kitchen in a sleepy haze to see no red hair over the stove or even a bowl or glass by the sink he just _knew_.

 

_And I can't look you in the eye, no matter how hard I try_

 

Archie lingered at the riverside until it was safe to go home, free of questions and patient glances from Jughead. He showered and scrubbed until he couldn’t stand to scrub anymore but manifestly, he still felt dirty. He felt dirty underneath the smell of his coconut shower gel and even more so in his varsity jacket. His shower walls were dirty, his bedroom door. His bed.

 

Walking around the corridors of Riverdale High felt wrong. He felt wrong. For once the floor was more interesting than the hundreds of people around him and Jughead's eyes… His eyes were confused, conflicted, torn between hostile and concerned. Archie hated that he still looked faultless despite the storm thickening above them.

 

_You deserve forever, not a boy looking for better_

 

Archie promised he didn't care, that he didn’t care about sex and about losing that side of a relationship just as long as it meant that Jughead was by his side. Naïve and libidinous, Archie was destined to fall apart at some point. Jughead knew this but held onto whatever hope he could grasp onto. His hope wasn’t going to delay the inevitable though. It was no Romeo and Juliet, but it was tragic in a way that felt all too dramatic for the both of them.

 

_But as long as you're still here, I'mma try to keep you near_

 

Jughead was lost to him once before and he vowed never again. He’d never walk away from what they had. What if Jug was the one to walk away this time? Archie took a shaky breath and nervously ran his hand through his slightly damp hair. This time it would be harder to let go and he wasn’t sure if he could.

 

_Please bathe me now, wash me clean. Just set my heart on fire, like gasoline_

 

The bell ran just as he spotted Jughead walking towards him. Again, the universe proved its hatred for Archie and love for the innocent. 'Saved by the bell' his father always said, but Archie hated it. They never saved him. When he was young, he believed it was a fluke, all down to coincidence. Recent events, however, had taught him that maybe he was just a bad luck anchor, his own mind and body tying him down.

 

He watched as Jughead walked closer, a careful, closed off look on his face. That’s when Archie knew that he’d run out of time. Jughead could always read him like an open book, one he knew inside out and back to front. He expected a slap, he really did. It’s what he had coming for him.

 

_Bathe me now, yeah, wash me clean. Just set my heart on fire, like gasoline_

 

But it never came. No words were spat out with hurtful intentions, not hitting or screaming or causing a scene. What actually happened stung more than words ever could. Slender arms wrapped around his body, one hand in his hair. It would’ve been comforting, a gentle gesture, if he hadn’t of felt so _hollow_.

 

“I fucked up, Jug,” Archie said, hating how his voice cracked. He shouldn’t have felt sad, he should’ve felt ashamed and disgusting.

 

“I know, Archie, I know,” Jug head said, the sound muffled through where his mouth was leaning on his shoulder. Archie didn’t have to ask how he knew. Nobody ever asked, Jughead just knew these things. It was like he was the narrator and knew everything that happened, but couldn’t change the story no matter how much it hurt. “It’s ok, Arch. We both did. I should never have- I shouldn’t make people change for me. Archie Andrews, I knew I was never going to be enough for you.”

 

Archie bit his lip so hard, telling himself not to cry. Jughead’s words weren’t spiteful and they lacked all sense of humour. It was his usual sense of self-depreciating humour yet so unlike Jughead. The truth wasn’t hidden with a curl of his lips or an ironic tone to his voice. It hurt knowing that he did this to someone close to him. He needed to hold him closer somehow. Archie needed to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that it was a mistake he was going to regret making for the rest of his life. The words never came out though. Instead, Archie held on tighter and Jughead held just as tightly back, not caring that they were still in the now empty school corridor.

 

They needed this and Archie didn’t think he could support himself without leaning on something. Selfish, in a way, that he was still using his friend- if they were calling each other that now, that is. But both of them needed it, hugging each other as if there was nothing else they’d ever want to do. In those few minutes, Archie convinced himself that they’d be ok, that their future would still be alright. They’d still have each other, all of the laughs and dinner dates still promised. Intertwined in the school corridor, Archie finally started to feel a little cleaner.

 

_Please bathe me now, wash me clean_

_Just set my heart on fire, like gasoline_

Jughead sobbed silently into Archie’s shoulder, making him hide his own face in Jughead’s neck, this time not warding off the tears. They needed each other, that much was obvious.

 

_Bathe me now, wash me clean_

_Just set my heart on fire, like gasoline_

 

Except just like that, he was gone, leaving Archie feel cold. Too cold, as if someone had turned the air con up in his chest.

But, what happens when a broken heart grows too cold?

 

_Bathe me now, wash me clean_

_Just set my heart on fire, just like gasoline_

~~It numbs~~.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, not exactly the happy ending I would've liked to have written but hey, sometimes we need some angst. Right? Thank you for reading :)


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